I was talking to Y., I said, “You know that feeling when—you feel so alone but you’re so used to it. And then you find people to love, and they love you—and they make you remember what it used to be and what it can be. And then when you’re back to being by yourself, the loneliness becomes even a deeper chasm, and it hurts more?”
She said: “But then…I know this pain, which is worse than before, is still better than before. Because it also means I was loved and wanted again. When there’s no one, being alone is bearable—but life is dull and pale when no one is around. I’d rather burn in hell but had loved and been loved once.”
I sighed. Then I said: I know…It’s just—it hurts.
Today’s anchors, as I struggle to stay afloat: